In rooms behind locked doors

Betsy let the finally-flaccid thing slip from her mouth… watching its owner like a hawk as she wiped away the glistening bridge of saliva and cum that still linked her to him. She was more than a little sore and exhausted. Getting yourself picked out to entertain the changing shifts of security for the breeding centre was one of those jobs most of the girls avoided like the plague. That was one of the few areas where the corporation was not going to skimp on genuine, living personnel… who couldn’t be hacked into or distracted and disabled so easily as bots could. Of course that meant most of the men and women in the role were still-young Home kids themselves, deemed unsuitably aggressive or domineering for sex-pets or maintenance workers. There was something distinctly… vicious… in the way such people ended up treating those who had been brought up alongside them. As if, the sense of everybody having been put in the right place by the algorithm gave them more leeway to do whatever they pleased to you. Most of that seemed to mellow out once they’d earned their place in the suburbs of middle-class freedom, plugged into the ‘net for most of the day renting movies or 3rd-tier fuckpuppets on the same monthly subscription package. But, until then… woe betide a pregnant young lady who offered herself to a room of them in the late afternoon.

Still… what that did inevitably mean, was that you ended up ditched in one of the break rooms with only the snoring form of a day-shift worker who’d missed his cue to go home for company. Betsy was dripping with the leavings of fifteen or so bored and pent up Corpos… but in one of the areas outside where she was supposed to have access to. She was supposed to have been escorted off the property after everyone had had their fun… but all the breeders knew how often that happened. Instead you just sort of dragged whatever was left of yourself out towards the exit and hoped whoever was supposed to be manning the doors was around to beep you through. No-one was paying enough attention to check if that was what direction she actually headed in… Around here, she was just cattle. Part of the product line they were supposed to be guarding. What trouble was a swollen-bellied baby-oven going to get up to?

She met Finder three corridors over. He’d got permission to access the building’s main servers earlier, to ‘cleanse a stuck milking subroutine’. They’d both be on camera for the whole escapade, of course, but unless they tripped some sort of automated alarm, why would anyone care. Their unofficial, little partnership was well known… as was Finder’s struggles with the more software-based problems which arose. He’d just happened to see his young friend in the corridor and asked her to help him. Betsy wasn’t exactly a super-hacker herself, but she’d dipped her endlessly curious toe into network security as much as she had anything else. The teen was fairly certain she could access what she wanted to without alerting the wider system. It wasn’t exactly the most diligently guarded information, after all. Once again, their best protection was that they weren’t looking for what it was expected they’d be looking for. Still, her heart thumped and her knees creaked as she kneeled down next to the tiny, blurry direct-access console.

Her slightly-greying companion kept watch. He hadn’t wanted anything to do with this. Didn’t think anything good could come of it, for either of them. His life here was comfortable… not perfect, maybe… but safe and cyclical and certain. Whatever lay behind him, clearly hadn’t ended well. There was no fighting against the greater systems of this world. All you could do was find your place and be content in it...

Except young Betsy didn’t seem to be in her right place, to his humble judgement. It wasn’t just her obvious intelligence: some of the most successful baby-makers around here were happy enough to read books on existential philosophy that he could barely get beyond the title of, while letting the suction cups do their work. Some further sense of an endless restlessness in her called out to him. The algorithm didn’t make mistakes… she herself had said that to him, more than once. But, every time, he wondered just who she was really trying to convince.

A brief gasp came from behind him. A noise that still clutched at his heart strings a little. He must have made love to this girl half his age fifty times or more by now. It was just a natural part of sharing air around here… Yet, every time… Finder found himself drawn in a little more to the joy of watching her curving form roll beneath him. He knew, to her, it was just another cock burrowing in where so many had already… A necessary chore to let them talk without some other visitor trying to butt in. However, to him, it seemed to awaken thoughts and sensations that he’d thought were long lost behind the veil in his memory. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to fuck any of the other breeders since…

Betsy had closed up the access panel, ceasing the eerie light of it from picking out her face. She heaved herself up and came up to pat him on the shoulder.

“Let’s get out of here…” She whispered. Finder couldn’t really read her expression at all, but her voice was distant and thoughtful. He both wanted to ask what she’d learned, and didn’t, with every ounce of his being.